


A Series of Alterations: The Prequels

by ArdentAspen2



Series: The Star Wars Wednesday Collection [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Prompt Fic, Star Wars Wednesday, Tribbles (Star Trek), au prompts, brief crossover with star trek, i cannot stress how far from canon compliant these are, mostly gen with background Anidala stuff, no canon we write like jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26698099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArdentAspen2/pseuds/ArdentAspen2
Summary: A series of short what-ifs and reimaginings set in the Star Wars universe, beginning with the Prequel Trilogy. (Each trilogy has its own separate story in the series). If you see one that you would like to expand on, you are welcome to do so as long as you credit the original source.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: The Star Wars Wednesday Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942846
Comments: 28
Kudos: 40





	1. "Indiana Kenobi and the Last Crusade" & "In Which Obi-wan Meets The Tribbles"

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone here is familiar with the Star Wars Wednesday posts I do on my blog, https://radioactivepeasant.tumblr.com/, they'll recognize just about all of these prompts. I took about three days to separate all four years of them into separate docs per trilogy, with an extra one for Rebels, because there was _no_ way I was going to deal with tagging every single character in one monster anthology. That would drive me out of my gourd.
> 
> Welcome to the first part of the series! The chapters are all short by necessity, they're somewhere between prompts and flash fiction for length. I hope you enjoy them!

###  Indiana Kenobi and the Last Crusade

There were legends about the Journal of the Whills. Nobody was entirely clear on what was in it, but most thought it held the secret of some kind of power.

Naturally, people had gone looking for it, for generations. No real clues surfaced until Obi-wan Kenobi discovered that someone had shipped an old diary to him. A diary once kept by Qui-gon Jinn, containing every clue and every bit of information he’d ever learned about the Journal. Kenobi suspected that this meant Qui-gon had gone and gotten himself in some kind of trouble again.

The representative from Chancellor Palpatine asking Obi-wan to take over on a research expedition for the Journal made that suspicion stronger. When the Chancellor revealed that their missing researcher was, indeed, Qui-gon, the Bad Feeling got worse.

“You’ve always told me he could handle himself,” said Anakin, accompanying him to the apartment. He’d been in the neighborhood attempting to find something for one of Padme’s stranger cravings and had figured he’d lend a hand.

“I haven’t spoken to him in months,” Obi-wan murmured, “That’s a little unlike him.”

The apartment was ransacked. Anakin leaned over a desk. “Look. It’s today’s mail,” he said with a little surprise, “It’s been opened.”

Obi-wan reached for the diary in his pocket and paled. “Oh dear. So it’s an adventure after all,” he sighed.

* * *

###  In Which Obi-wan Meets the Tribbles

“What,” said the general with a disapproving curl of his lip, “is  _ that _ ?”

Hondo blinked innocently at them – which was not especially convincing for a variety of reasons – and glanced back down at the little ball of fur in his hand.

“Would you believe me if I said I had no idea?” he asked cheerfully. “I was just, er,  _ surveying _ these fine storehouses when I discovered this friendly little one! Cute, eh?”

He held the furball out towards the Jedi, and it made a peaceful trill that was almost more of a coo. Despite himself, Obi-wan could admit that it  _ did _ look awfully soft. But it didn’t seem very like Ohnaka to go about taking pests out of people’s grain storage.

“What, exactly, are you planning to do with your little friend there?” he asked cautiously.

Hondo didn’t seem to have heard him. He had gone on ahead in the conversation, and was waxing poetic about the uses of the little trilling thing as a therapy animal.

“All those soldiers of yours, Kenobi. What do they do for fun, eh? Do they get any time to be young men and enjoy life? If they’re anything like you Jedi, I bet the answer is no! Why not do something nice for them, eh? Whaddya say?”

Obi-wan stroked his beard and sensed that Hondo was, as usual, not telling him something.

“You want me to take your one little furball for the entire army?” he asked dryly, “A nice thought, presumably, but I don’t think getting passed around from battalion to battalion would be healthy for the little fellow.”

“Er…” Hondo scratched his cheek and shifted his weight. “That’s the beauty of it! I’m not offering  _ one _ trill-ball. No no, not for my good friend Kenobi! For Kenobi, I’m offering forty-three of them!”

There was a short silence, and then Obi-wan quietly said, “Forty-three?!”

The cooeing furball made a happy sound and snuggled against the pirate’s hand, who had the decency to look sheepish. “The grain was nourishing,” he explained, “it was fruitful and multiplied. Many times. As did its offspring. They’re everywhere.”

Ah. Obi-wan was beginning to understand, just barely, the reason Hondo had put out a distress signal.


	2. "In Which Identities Are Mistaken" & "Two Short Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many of these early prompts are _very_ short, mostly because they started out more prompt than ficlet.

### In Which Anakin Has To Play Along

The stakeout was going well, they’d already spotted their quarry making contact with the Separatist agent, but Anakin was getting bored. The longer he sat on this bench, the harder it got to pretend to be a normal civilian. He was just beginning to ponder getting a snack when a Bith policewoman tapped his shoulder.

“Pardon me, sir,” she said gently, “But isn’t that your daughter up there?”

His _wha-?_

Anakin blinked rapidly, then turned and saw Ahsoka balanced on top of a store awning. _Oh._ The officer must have seen them goofing around earlier and assumed-

Oh dear.

She was perfectly safe, of course, but it didn’t do much for the “civilian” act. Impulsively, Anakin sprang to his feet, wearing an expression of panic.

“Ah-” no, couldn’t use her real name. It was becoming too well known. “ _Pooja!_ ” His niece was going to kill him. Or his sister-in-law would, that was also likely. “Pooja Shmi you get down from there this instant! You’ll break your neck!”

The policewoman nodded sympathetically. “Teenagers. I remember when mine was that age. Do not miss the climbing phase, I’ll tell you what.”

* * *

### SHORTS

**1.** “Answer my riddle,” sneered the alien creature, “And I will let you and your boy live. Fail to answer and I will eat you all.”

“Oh dear,” said Qui-gon in a very dry voice, “Whatever shall we do.”

Obi-wan began to wonder just when the ground would swallow him up. This was just embarrassing.

**2.** “So there we were,” Qui-gon said theatrically, “Trapped in a malfunctioning speeder with corrupt officials after us. Now just then a garbage hauler passed conveniently close beneath us. So I got up-”

Tahl interrupted, breaking from where she’d been braiding Shmi’s hair. “And I said _‘Don’t you even think about it, Qui-gon Jinn. At that speed and velocity you’ll break your legs!_ ’”

“Can you believe that?” Qui-gon pulled a wry face. “It’s like she doesn’t know me at all!”

“So what did you do?” asked Obi-wan, despite having heard this story many times before.

“Yeah,” little Anakin grinned and scooted closer. “What’d you do?”

Grandly, Qui-gon stroked his beard and said, “I said ’ _Yes, dear,_ ’ and I sat back down.”


	3. A Little Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set right after _The Phantom Menace_ , while Obi-wan and Anakin are still adjusting to being on their own.

###  A Little Rain

Anakin kicked his feet back and forth, watching droplets of water fly up into the air with a contented grin. He had a firm grip on the stone under him, the water wasn’t deep, and if he fell in by chance he could wade out. This wasn’t at all like the time a few enterprising fellow padawans had taken it upon themselves to teach him (and two other desert-dwelling younglings) how to swim.

(An endeavor which had resulted in written apologies from the Mon Cal girl and her friends, overseen by Master Yaddle, while Obi-wan fretted endlessly and the Creche master for the kid from Pasher banned his clan from swimming practice for a week.)

Behind him, he could hear his Jedi master speaking loudly on the commlink. Evidently the connection was poor.

“You’re quite certain?” Obi-wan all but shouted, “No no, of course I don’t doubt your word, Master Mundi, I just want to be sure-”

He paused, listening with a tight frown, then waved urgently at Anakin to stop playing in the water and join him.

“Of course. We’ll be careful, thank you, Master. Kenobi out.”

The young Knight pulled a wry face. “Storm’s coming, Anakin,” he said in an offhand way. “Bad as they’ve seen for a while, it seems. We’ll have to temporarily postpone the mission.”

Anakin blinked. The air had felt heavier, sure, but he didn’t feel the storm in his bones the way he would have on Tatooine. Rainstorms were confusing like that. You felt it on your skin first, apparently. The eleven year old trudged along behind Kenobi, contemplating weather, when the sky went from grey to black.

“Hey, what’s that, master?” Anakin pointed at small white things bouncing down off of roofs and speeders with loud thunks. He knew what rain looked like. That wasn’t rain.

“Oh. Hail. Lovely,” Obi-wan sighed.

“Hail?”

“Chunks of ice, falling from the sky, Padawan. Mind you don’t get one in the face,” Kenobi explained absently as the wind picked up.

"What do you mean ice falls from the sky?!" Anakin squeaked. "Ice isn't supposed to do that!"

"Oh my dear padawan, you have so much to learn," Obi-wan chuckled.

He gnawed his lip a moment as he tried to judge how long it would take them to reach the nearest shelter on foot. Then thunder cracked the sky and Anakin jolted, heralding an absolute downpour of rain, and he made an executive decision.

Anakin yelped as he was abruptly picked up and tucked under Obi-wan’s arm as the man made a mad dash for the nearest shop. They’d run with the assistance of the Force, but still managed to get fairly soaked. Still carrying his padawan awkwardly, Obi-wan marched up to the counter, shivering, and ordered some kind of hot drink. He ignored the chuckles from the other patrons as he set Anakin down and attempted to wring the excess water from their cloaks.

Anakin, apparently, was having a harder time ignoring them.


	4. "Anakin the Castaway" & "A Reversal au"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second prompt requires a tiny bit of explanation: Anakin Falls, but not the way you think.

###  Anakin the Castaway

They’d known Anakin was stranded on the forest planet for nearly a week before any serious rescue attempts were made. With the Separatists spreading further, the Jedi and the clones were stretched thin, and were not able to get everywhere they needed to be precisely when they needed to be there.

Therefore, despite protests, it was nearly four weeks before they managed to get enough breathing room to send a transport to pick up Commander Skywalker.

Ahsoka and Obi-wan hurried down the ramp to find a considerably more raggedy looking Anakin than usual. He’d probably been fighting with locals or wildlife if his clothes were any indication, and he sported a surprisingly thick beard.

Anakin stumbled up to them, then looked at Obi-wan’s neatly trimmed facial hair and arched one eyebrow – looking disturbingly similar to Kenobi when he did so.

“Well,” he said dryly, “ _ One _ of us is going to have to go home and change.”

In equally emotionless tones, Obi-wan declared, “It won’t be me, Anakin. I have beard seniority.”

Ahsoka looked from one to the other, then whispered, “ _ There can be only one _ !”

It was later agreed by Skywalker and Kenobi alike that this statement had been made uneccesarily ominous.

Captain Rex’s offer to help Anakin give his facial hair “a proper Jedi funeral” when he inevitably shaved it off was not particularly well received.

* * *

###  A galaxy so far and away that it bears little resemblance to the stories you know…

The words came in snatches, along with glimpses of blinding light between long stretches of agonizing darkness.

_ “Easy, easy- can’t-” _

_ “-give him another dose-” _

_ “-losing him!” _

He tried to cling to his anger, his hatred, as he had always done, as the Order had taught him. But the Order had betrayed him. They had  _ all  _ betrayed him. What did he have left? Nothing.

Well, he thought as a gentle warmth as unfamiliar as kindness filled his mind, perhaps not  _ nothing _ after all.

He didn’t know how long he drifted in and out of consciousness, but at last he opened his eyes and found himself looking up at two Zabrak men, one near his own age, one a little older.

“Master, he’s awake!” the red one called.

A pair of worried blue eyes suddenly hovered in his blurry vision and he blinked. The blur coalesced into the gentle face of the former senator of Naboo, Palpatine.

The  _ Jedi _ .

“Wh- what did you do?” He tried to sit up, but was pushed back carefully.

“Easy, easy son,” Palpatine murmured, dabbing at his brow with a wet cloth. “You need to regain your strength. We very nearly lost you, but by the Force, you pulled through!”

“Not in one piece, mind you, but there are worse fates,” the red Zabrak chimed in.

“Maul, for heaven’s sake son, don’t tell him that!” Palpatine looked exasperated. He shook his head and turned back to the patient.

“Believe me, we did everything we could to save your limbs, but-”

He swallowed hard and raised a hand – the prosthetic looked about the same, at least – to cut Palpatine off. At one time in his life, he would have added a subtle force choke to the gesture. “It’s…alright,” he rasped awkwardly, “Kenobi was…thorough. It was to be expected. I was not strong enough to overthrow him yet.”

The younger Zabrak curled his lip at this. “Awful practice,” he grumbled. “Why would you stay with people who are always trying to kill you?”

“Clearly,” came the dry answer, “I didn’t.”

“Well, my boy,” said Palpatine, “What do you intend to do now? You are free to go, of course, but are you sure the Sith will take you back? After all, from what I saw you drew on the Light Side of the Force and nearly killed Darth Vindictus on Mustafar?”

Eyes swirling in a confusion of blues and golds, the man looked up at the three Jedi.

“You’re right, I…I…do not think I can call myself a Sith now,” he said softly. “I do not know what I am.”

Palpatine leaned forward and placed his worn hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “What you are, Anakin Skywalker,” he said firmly, “is  _ free _ . Nobody chooses your path now but  _ you _ .


	5. Slightly Insincere Apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which we take a brief detour into _The Pirates of the Penzance_ for an au where Maul didn't become a Sith.

### Slightly insincere apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan 

_who I quote nearly verbatim, and even less sincere apologies to the character I just threw into a wholly ridiculous au (eh, said character is better off here than becoming a villain)_

_Maul_ : “Yes, I have done my best for you. And why? It was my duty under my indentures, and I am the slave of duty. As a child I was regularly apprenticed to your band. It was through an error – no matter, the mistake was ours, not yours, and I was in honor bound by it.”

 _Hondo_ : “An error? What error?”

 _Maul_ : “I may not tell you: it would reflect upon my childhood home.”

_An old droid wobbles forward. It is an outdated protocol droid the pirates picked up the same time as Maul_

_Droid_ : “Nay, young master, my circuits have long been gnawed by the cankering tooth of mystery. Better have it out at once.”

**_Droid begins to sing_ **

_Droid_ : “When Maul was just a little lad he proved so brave and daring,

His mother thought she’d ‘prentice him to some career spacefaring.

I was, alas! their family droid, and so it fell to _my_ lot

To take and bind the promising boy apprentice to a _pilot_ –

A life not bad for a hardy lad, though surely not a high lot,

Though I’m a nurse, you might do worse than make your boy a pilot.

I was a sad malfunct'ning droid, on breakers always steering,

And I did not catch the word aright, having trouble with my hearing;

Mistaking my instructions, which within my core did gyrate,

I took and bound this promising boy apprentice to a _pirate_.

A sad mistake it was to make and doom him to a vile lot.

I bound him to a pirate – you – instead of to a pilot.”

**_End song_ **

_Hondo_ : “Well such as it is, I can’t say I regret your mistake! But ah, we’re getting away from the matter at hand. Er, that is, Maul my boy, now you’re twenty-one and out of apprenticeship, what is it you mean to do?”

 _Maul_ : “I’m not sure I thought that far ahead. I’ll improvise, I’m sure.”

_The Pirates all cheer heartily_

_Hondo_ : “That’s our boy!”


	6. "In Which Padme Jumps the Gun" & "In Which Anakin Didn't Turn"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a cameo by Luke and Leia, but since this is their only appearance in the anthology so far I didn't tag them as characters.

### Padme Jumps The Gun

Padme had decided it was better to let them know early. There was never a guarantee that they’d make it one more day, Force or not. Anakin deserved to know, first and foremost. And frankly, she wanted some support from her friends.

It wasn’t as if she was a Jedi, after all. Some people in the media might gasp and gossip for sure, but a single senator deciding to become a parent wasn’t _that_ unusual.

The plan had been to tell Anakin first, and then the others. But the Force apparently had other ideas. There was a small group in the apartment: Anakin, Obi-wan, Bail Organa (here to see to it the Jedi actually rested for once), Mon Mothma, and they’d even convinced Rex to come up. And right in the middle of a very serious discussion about the potential end of the war and whether the Chancellor would give up his emergency powers, Padme got sick.

“Sorry, it’s okay. I’m okay,” she raised her hands to quiet them all.

“Was it something you ate?” Anakin hovered over her, concerned. “Is it a virus?”

“It’s just morning sickness,” Padme said without thinking, and the room went quiet. Well. That hadn’t been how she’d meant to make the announcement.

“It’s…it’s what?” Anakin looked slightly like a poleaxed bantha, standing with a dazed expression and his mouth wide open.

“Padme, you’re p-?” Bail cut himself off, but he looked just as surprised. “Really?”

She nodded reluctantly. “I’d…like to keep that between all of us, for now. You all know I have enemies. The war does seem to be near its end, and I want my baby to arrive in a galaxy that isn’t tearing itself to pieces, but I know I can’t guarantee my own safety the whole way through.”

There was a wistful look on Bail’s face that she understood. He and his wife, the queen of Alderaan, longed for children. Even when they’d been young students, meeting now and then, Bail had always been the boy getting distracted to coo over someone’s baby, or getting dragged into some kind of game by local children. He had confided in Padme that he and Breha were looking into adoption, just as soon as the war gave them all some breathing room.

“Well I don’t envy you going to Senate meetings like this,” Obi-wan said with a wince, “But I suppose congratulations are in order…?”

Padme nodded firmly and forced a smile despite her nerves. “Thank you, Obi-wan. It’s going to be tough, I can already guess that. But we’ll get by. I’ll go stay with my family a while if I need to.”

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder abruptly. He still looked utterly stunned, but there was a hint of awe and most likely tears in his eyes now. “I’m going to help, any way I can. I promise, Padme, whatever you need me to do, or, or be, I’ll be here.”

She beamed at him, and resisted the urge to hug him. She’d barely convinced Threepio not to tattle about her husband, hugging him in front of everyone wouldn’t help.

“Of course!” Obi-wan piped up again, “You’re our friend, Padme! While none of us can guarantee that we won’t be reassigned elsewhere during the pregnancy, I second Anakin’s thoughts. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“And-! And if anything ever feels…weird, I don’t know, come see the Temple healers! Tell them Skywalker and Kenobi sent you!”

“Or just tell them Kenobi sent you,” Rex muttered, “Then they’ll instantly assume it’s an emergency.”

“The point is,” Mon Mothma leaned forward with a graceful smirk, “Thank you for telling us. We’d all like to be there for you, in whatever way you need. I do recommend going back to Naboo for a little while, Padme dear. The Separatists are getting closer to Coruscant and I don’t think you should take chances.”

“And you’ll probably want to tell your family anyway, right?” Bail agreed.

Padme laughed and found herself wiping her eyes unexpectedly. “Thanks, everyone. I didn’t quite mean it to come out like this, but it’s gone better than expected so far.”

Idly, she wondered if her friends might agree to become a conglomerate collective of godparents for her child. Plus one actual parent, though she and Anakin would have to figure out how to hide that without hiding it from the baby. Clearly, he was happy. He looked like he had a million questions on the tip of his tongue that would have to wait until they were alone, but he was happy.

And Captain Rex began quietly making approximately seventeen contingency plans all at once. A second Senator Amidala running around the galaxy was an invitation to chaos. The galaxy needed to be as safe as possible before the baby made its debut and Rex would do what he had to do to make it that way. Even if he had to get all the brothers involved.

* * *

### If Anakin Didn’t Turn 

Leia shifted a little and frowned, even as her father admonished her not to move – an impressive feat given the amount of pins in his mouth at the moment.

“I just wanna make sure I make a good impression but at the same time I kinda hope the other kid uses a lot of logical fallacies so I can _destroy_ him. Is that bad?”

Anakin took another pin out of his mouth and secured the next piece of the dress’s helm before answering. “Kiddo, you know I am definitely not the guy to be asking about third grade debate finals, right? Because most of my advice is gonna involve psychological warfare to undermine your opponent.”

Leia pouted, just a little. “That sounds like something Uncle Obi-wan would say.”

“That’s because I asked Uncle Obi-wan if he was coming to your debate and he said he hoped you would use psychological warfare.”

“And what’d you say?”

Anakin shrugged and grinned. “I said you and Luke are eight and it _might_ be too early to teach you that.”

Barely looking up from his homework across the room – something mechanical, apparently, probably from one of the Vod'e – Luke spoke up.

“One time at a party some guy was trying to make Mom look weak and she drank a wine glass full of Ryloth Fire Sauce without breaking eye contact. He couldn’t look her in the eye during the speeches later.”

There were a few seconds of silence before their father muttered, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Leia smirked. “I’ll remember that, but I don’t think there’s gonna be fire sauce in the auditorium.”

“You know who you should call if Mom doesn’t get back before bedtime?” Luke waved a multitool at his sister. “Uncle Bail. He’s good at debates.”

“Or you could ask Master Yoda, but you might get a weird couple of answers.” Anakin shrugged and put the last pin in. “Still, he’s really good at saying pretty much everything _except_ what he means so he’s good practice.”

“I know!” Leia bounced on her heels as the new dress was carefully exchanged for pajamas so that it could be hemmed. “He’s been helping me practice when we go visit Ahsoka and Uncle Obi-wan!”

If Anakin twitched slightly, neither twin seemed to notice.


	7. Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which other timelines start to leak through, and we see a Sith take an entirely different career path.

###  Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey Wimey

There were places in the universe that were, for lack of better word,  _ thin _ . Where the colors were a little too bright and the convors tended to gather like omens. Places where  _ something _ seemed to bleed through into the Force and make one’s perceptions a bit, well, wobbly.

Sixteen year old Ahsoka Tano would one day find this adventure one of her favorite stories to tell to the young rebels who would hang on her every word, but for now she simply found it impossible.

No ship that small was meant to have a cloaking device, but it couldn’t have been anything but a cloaking device because the alternatives were either that the pilot was so good they could drop a tiny ship out of hyperspace right above a battlefield with no prior warning, or else it simply materialized there.

With several rather dire wheezing groans, the boxy little craft settled to the ground. Ahsoka was dimly aware of Captain Rex tightening his grip on his blaster beside her and quietly signaling the men to get into position. It didn’t look like a Separatist ship, but that didn’t mean anything. Especially since Ahsoka could sense little more than a gathered wariness.

The hatch opened, got stuck halfway down, closed, and then opened again. This was accompanied by a disturbingly familiar voice making several disparaging comments in a resigned sort of way.

Down the ramp strode a very tall old man with hardly a speck of color anywhere about him. Dark eyes glittered out of a stern face, and a wrinkled hand rose to stroke a neatly kept beard. The man was covered in some kind of white robe and rough cloak that looked half like a scholar’s robes and half like something the ancient Jedi might have worn.

Nevertheless, Ahsoka knew him immediately.

“Count Dooku!” She snarled and ignited her lightsabers. “Watch for droids!”

Dooku stared at her, as if puzzled, then his eyes widened. “Con _ found _ that boy!” he cried unexpectedly. Then he turned to call back up the ramp.

“Qui-gon! Qui-gon Jinn you insufferable rascal, you’ve crossed the streams again!”

A muffled voice responded from inside the ship with something unintelligible, and then a young man, not much older than Ahsoka, exited the ship.

“He says it wasn’t his fault, Professor,” said the boy amiably. “He says the Pandora Circuit’s gone haywire again.”

Dooku shook his head despairingly and turned his eyes skyward. “The Pandora Circuit, young Kenobi, happens to be Qui-gon’s favorite excuse for letting the  _ Amisit Tempore _ drift into places we’re forbidden to go.”

“Like the thin patches in the Force, Professor?”

The man Ahsoka knew as a Sith broke into a gentle chuckle and clapped the too-young Obi-wan Kenobi on the shoulder. “Precisely. Come on then, lad, best sort things out with the locals before we accidentally start some unpleasantness. At least there aren’t any other versions of ourselves present this time.”

Ahsoka quickly realized that this would be one of those missions that gave the Council fits.


	8. A Common Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Revenge of the Sith au where Darth Vader finds his way back to the Jedi shortly after waking in the suit. He and Obi-wan both suspect that Palpatine was behind Padme's death, and agree to put aside ideological differences to bring the man down. This would be much easier if Vader didn't still have the habit of rushing blindly into things without thinking about how it will effect his health.

###  A Common Enemy

He woke up in the bacta tank again.

Cloudy liquid obscured most of the world around him, and even dulled his current pain to a tolerable level – which was to say, dull agony rather than excruciating torment – but it did not hide the eyes watching him with concern.

**LET. ME. OUT.**

He pushed his thoughts at the man through the Force, knowing full well his lungs and throat wouldn’t cooperate if he were to speak aloud.

“No.” Obi-wan folded his arms and glared. “You are  _ not  _ well enough to come out of that tank. I’m _not_ risking the wrath of that 2-1B when it comes back in here.”

**_LET! ME! OUT!_ **

“Anakin, you tried to get into a ship and fly to battle with one working arm, impaired vision, and both your lungs horrifically damaged!  _ You passed out before Artoo landed the ship! _ You can’t keep  _ doing _ this, you have to let them heal you!” Obi-wan snapped, waving one hand sharply for emphasis.

**WE DON’T HAVE TIME. HE’S MOVING- I CAN STILL KILL HIM. I CAN STILL AVENGE PADME.**

Obi-wan turned away for a moment, and Anakin couldn’t make out his facial expression, but he could feel a tangle of emotions from him consisting primarily of apprehension and sadness.

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” Obi-wan began in some half-meant platitude.

**DO YOU REALLY THINK I CARE?**

“…no, I suppose not.” There was a pain in his voice that Anakin would feel guilty for if he weren’t focused on other matters at present. “But Anakin…every time you set your recovery back, the Polis Massans are forced to go to more and more extreme methods just to keep you alive. Do you want us to have to...to  _ clone  _ your organs or something? Is that it? Because we  _ can _ , if you truly want that, but it will take  _ too long _ for you to get back into the fight right away!”

Ah, he was angry now. A part of Anakin wanted to feed on that anger, draw it in to give him strength. Another part of him wanted to push it as far away as possible. But he was grieving, and frustrated, and in pain, and he had always been impulsive.

**EVERY HOUR YOU TRY TO CONVINCE ME TO AGREE TO ANOTHER ROUND OF SURGERIES IS AN HOUR SIDIOUS USES TO TAKE CONTROL OF MORE OF THE GALAXY. IS THAT WHAT** **_YOU_ ** **WANT?**

Two stubborn men glared at each other in a sickbay, neither willing to be the first to flinch. Until Obi-wan put the final nail in the coffin.

“If you go on like this,” he said quietly, reluctantly, “What will become of the Twins?”

The room grew cold for a moment as a twist of rage threaded its way around them, breaking like a wave and receding into stubbornness, followed by realization.

**I WANT TO SEE THEM.**

“I’ll bring them as soon as they’re awake,” Obi-wan promised. “Though if you wait in the bacta tank until tomorrow, you’ll be able to hold them yourself.”

**I’LL SEE THEM NOW** **_AND_ ** **TOMORROW. I WANT TO SEE MY CHILDREN.**

He would have put a hand on the glass if he’d had a hand to reach with. Anakin’s outrage was fading now at the thought of Luke and Leia. He couldn’t leave them alone, not now. They’d already lost their mother. They were too young to lose their father as well. Maybe when they were older, maybe when they’d been trained some, he’d have another chance at Sidious.

Maybe the old Sith would grow complacent and think he’d weakened.

“I’ll see to it, Anakin, trust me,” Obi-wan murmured. “For now, just…try to sleep, alright?”

**TRY NOT.** Anakin managed a decent level of sarcasm despite not having the energy to roll his eyes.

Obi-wan actually cracked a smile at that. “Right you are,” he sighed. “Just see if you can’t stay put for at least two days? I’m literally begging you, Anakin.”

**I MAKE NO PROMISES.**

But he would, for the Twins’ sake. He would let them repair him again and again until he had a shot at bringing down Palpatine once and for all. No matter which side of the war he had to take to do so.


	9. Kenobi Takes a Sick Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know, I don't remember if we ever got to see the Jedi with completely normal illnesses. Like common colds.

###  Kenobi Takes a Sick Day

Obi-wan woke up with an explosive sneeze and the general feeling of having been run over by a speeder.

“Easy, General!” a concerned voice said, and smallish hands pushed him back down.

They’d been stranded in the disabled shuttle for four days now, and despite his protestations, it seemed he’d gotten sick after all. So much for “without a scratch”.

One Jedi master, one padawan, two clone cadets, the duchess of Mandalore’s nephew, and one of his friends did not make for an extensive crew, but they’d managed so far. The shuttle had been pushed far beyond its ability in order to outrun the Separatists, and now it was dead in space, waiting for the Republic to pick up their distress signal.

Obi-wan rather wished young Korkie had informed them that he was ill at the  _ beginning _ of the voyage.  _ Before _ accidentally infecting half the passengers.

Obi-wan opened his eyes with a groan to find Ahsoka and one of the clone cadets – disguised as a civilian child for the purpose of the mission – watching him warily. Perhaps Anakin had warned them of his slightly accident prone tendencies.

As if  _ he _ was one to talk.

“What’s our status?” Obi-wan croaked, and grimaced at the unpleasant scratching in his throat.

The cadet – called himself Ricochet, though Soniee had shortened it to Rico for the trip – frowned. “Still no fuel, no further response from the Republic after they acknowledged the distress beacon. Life support should last another week, though, sir. And the weapons systems are still online.”

Well, that was something, at least. They would just have to hope no one unfriendly discovered them before the Jedi or the Republic did. Kenobi allowed an attempt at a cheerful shrug.

“Ah well, can’t be helped. Thank you, Ricochet. Ahsoka, how is everyone else doing?”

The padawan looked a little exasperated. “Korkie is on the mend,” she sighed, “But now Soniee is sick! And I sense that Cadet Onewill is starting to catch the cold as well, but he’s hiding it.”

Ricochet nodded as if this was perfectly normal. Obi-wan wasn’t sure if that was an indication of Onewill’s personality – perhaps as stubborn as him – or if hiding illness was something multiple cadets did, in which case he might suggest that Shaak Ti look into matters on Kamino again.

“Well, I’ll go and see where we’ve drifted to now then, shall I?” With a grunt, Obi-wan forced himself up and ignored the sudden nausea informing him that this was a poor life choice.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said pointedly, “Skyguy told me to make sure you rested. This isn’t resting.”

Oh of course he had.

“I’ll have you know, Padawan, I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive!” he announced, and nearly face-planted when his feet abruptly declared for the opposite side of the war and betrayed him.

“How’s he still alive?” He heard Ricochet whisper in something like horrified awe.

“I’m not entirely sure, so let’s just say ‘The Force’ and go with it,” Ahsoka whispered back.

Alright. So maybe he wasn’t feeling  _ entirely _ up to snuff. Obi-wan most certainly did  _ not _ pout, thank you, but he was a bit out of sorts.


	10. In Which Padme Puts Her Foot Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An au of The Phantom Menace, because Shmi deserved better and Qui-gon, though his heart was in the right place, did _not_ think that one all the way through.

###  In Which Padme Puts Her Foot Down

“Where’s Shmi?” the girl asked bluntly. “You didn’t leave her behind, did you?!”

“Watto wouldn’t budge-” Qui-gon started to explain, but the handmaiden squinted up at him.

“So you went to a world where sentient beings were being treated like property and you  _ reinforced that idea _ with  _ gambling _ for a  _ life _ ?!”

And that….wasn’t exactly something that had occurred to Qui-gon Jinn. It should have, and he  _ knew _ it should have. The Force felt a little…well, grumbly wasn’t the right word, but certainly not as at peace as he was accustomed to.

This would become more of an understatement the more he actually meditated on his actions and their implications.

“Young lady,” he began again, but Padme had stopped listening.

“Hm no. No. Kriff that. No.”

Her family was somewhere far away on an occupied world, possibly in a detention center somewhere. The death toll was apparently “catastrophic”. No more families torn apart. Not if she had anything to say about it.

“Rabé, Eritaé, emergency meeting.” Padme waved her fellow handmaidens after her. “How busy is the Captain right now?”

As it turned out Captain Panaka  _ did _ have time to listen to some highly concerned handmaidens – Qui-gon was a bit surprised by this, considering how important it was that they returned to Coruscant. Obi-wan seemed less surprised. Then again, he’d been the one staying on the ship with them a few days longer, he would’ve seen that sort of thing in action. – there were some cautions about “politically appropriate”, and a counter about “they said the Republic doesn’t exist out here”, and two younger guards got in on the debate.

No one was quite sure who started what and how in the end, but word came down from the Queen and somehow it ended with two teenaged girls with blasters on their hips, two royal guards equally well-armed, some odd disguises, a droid with a chaotic temperament, and a very disgruntled eopie all marching into a junk shop.

There was a cacophonous uproar for a few minutes, then everything got very quiet. Folks on Tatooine had made a career out of “mind your own business if the other guy has a blaster”, and so nobody went in to check on Watto. Less than an hour later, two teenagers, two heavily armed men, two droids, and a weary looking woman with her head held high walked out of the shop. They left the disgruntled eopie in with Watto purely for spite.

An extremely concerned Obi-wan met them at the ship. “Ah…who is this?” he asked, blinking owlishly at Shmi.

“Someone very important,” Sabé said, patting his arm as they passed.

“A friend your master and I both owe a great deal to,” Padme added, lacing her fingers through Shmi’s and smiling up at her. “I hope I’ve repaid at least a little of my debt.”

“Oh,” said the padawan, not really knowing what else to say, “I suppose you’d better get ready for takeoff then. Welcome aboard…?”

Shmi Skywalker had not been expecting a quartet of masked individuals to burst into Watto’s junk shop and more or less hold him hostage while the droid located the transmitter detonation switch and removed it from his possession. She had even less expected one of the shorter individuals to make Watto hand the switch to her and ask if she wanted to leave town with them. She had recognized the accent as very like young Padme’s.

“What’s all this?” she whispered as they were hastily exiting. Someone was bound to discover the shaken up Watto later, and those hastily made disguises wouldn’t hold up long if they were caught.

“We’re rescuing an ally of our people,” one of the men whispered back. “A protector of the Queen being held against their will is grounds for intervention by the Guard, just in case anyone asks. We’ll get everything squared away on the ship.”

And that was how Shmi Skywalker learned what even the Jedi didn’t know yet: that Padme Naberrie was not who they all thought she was – and yet at the same time she was exactly who she appeared to be. And that by giving the girl food and shelter during the sandstorm, and not mentioning her to anyone, she’d picked up some staunch allies. And an astromech droid who seemed willing to at the very least commit arson for her sake.

With that evil chip deactivated and a blanket thrown around her shoulders, Shmi found herself sitting bewildered in a chair while two girls with startlingly similar faces brushed and arranged her hair in decorative swirls while Anakin held her hand tightly and glowed like a star. He talked about going to the Jedi temple, how maybe she could have a house on Coruscant and he could visit her, how he had been scared about leaving before, but he wouldn’t be as worried if he knew she was safe.

“Where are we going?” she asked Padme, dazed.

“Well,” Padme shifted her weight and sat down next to the woman. “I have to go to Coruscant and tell them what the Trade Federation is doing to my planet. But once we’re there, you can go anywhere you want, do whatever you want to do.”

Somehow, Shmi thought Padme looked painfully young now that she knew she was a queen. She hadn’t been sure how she was supposed to act around the girl at first, but Padme had insisted that nothing change between them.

It was only a few years after the battle for Naboo that Shmi began to be known on Naboo and Coruscant as a staunch advocate for justice and a close friend of the Naberrie family. She didn’t have any formal training or fancy education at that point, but that was why a lot of people liked her.

There was something about her eyes that one Sheev Palpatine found distinctly unsettling.

Which was, of course, just one more of many points in her favor.


	11. In Which Animals Hate The Sith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This started out as one sentence that popped into my head and made me snicker, so I had to expand it. It loosely follows the last chapter for continuity, although like most of the rest, it's a standalone.

###  In Which Animals Hate Sith

Sheev Palpatine was a man of progress. Whatever the newest scientific advances were, he knew about them first. The most up-to-date technology? He already owned it. As he comfortably ensconced himself in the inner workings of the Republic like a spider in his web, he assured himself that he would be at the forefront of all knowledge.

And yet despite all the great minds reporting to him, and the forbidden lore of the Sith, there were yet things that utterly escaped the grasp of his understanding.

Sheev Palpatine was not loved by animals.

This did not bother him in the slightest at first. An animal was to be used, like people were, in his opinion. Let its fear and hatred fuel him if it could, why not make use of that? But this was more than being hissed at by the occasional spoiled purebred tooka in the arms of a senator’s consort.

Shortly after the battle with the Trade Federation, Palpatine barely avoided tripping and breaking his neck when a hairless lothcat wound itself around his ankles with a rumbling growl that could be mistaken for a purr. Presumably the Force had not warned him of the event because an animal did not have evil intent. Nevertheless, Palpatine began relying on foresight more. And for irony’s sake, he brought the bald lothcat home and named it Mister Malevolent.

Mister Malevolent lived up to his name many times over and was quickly foisted on some unsuspecting victim at a party. The next time Sheev saw him, Mister Malevolent looked more smug than a lothcat had any right to look while Queen Breha of Alderaan fussed over him.

That could be attributed to the fickle nature of felines. Sheev didn’t care, particularly. But then that devilish Skywalker woman had the temerity to appear in his offices carrying a beast that even the Force had forsaken. The Force quickly forsake  _ him _ as well, the moment she came into the room.

“Good afternoon, Chancellor,” Shmi said pleasantly, and Sheev didn’t like that he couldn’t read the feelings behind her forever-stormy eyes. “I’d heard that Senator Amidala might return to Coruscant soon from her diplomatic mission. Such a sweet girl, it will be nice to see her again. Ani told me you might know when she would be arriving?”

He’d given her some trite answer, something warm and friendly and sickeningly polite, and then could no longer resist demanding some kind of explanation. “If you don’t mind my asking, Miss Skywalker, just…just what is it you’ve brought to my office today?”

Shmi smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Few of her smiles did in public, Anakin had assured him that this was fairly standard for her. “Oh, isn’t she darling?” she stroked the furry head of the foot long reptile, who let her tongue loll out as she basked in the attention. “That fellow from the wild place, oh…what was his name, it was quite long…the frighteningly intelligent one…”

That did not describe very many people that Palpatine knew. “Thrawn?” he suggested.

“Ah yes! Thrawn!” Shmi nodded and let the lizard crawl further up her shoulder. “Ollie here was a gift from Thrawn. To keep me company, he said, since Anakin is so rarely able to visit.”

“And that  _ is _ a shame, isn’t it?” Palpatine ignored the unholy gleam in the four eyes of the indomitable Ollie and turned the conversation to a favored subject. “Do you know, I read once that generations ago, the Jedi cooperated with the families of their initiates, and fostered some kind of community. It could have been propaganda, naturally, but it does seem like the Order has lost something, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, Chancellor, you don’t want to hear my thoughts about  _ that _ ,” Shmi said modestly, “You’d be here all the next week!”

She took her leave shortly after, and Palpatine felt the Dark Side creep sullenly back into the room by increments. He gathered it tightly around itself and it curdled and settled as if insisting that it hadn’t  _ really _ made a break for it, you know, wasn’t as if it was  _ scared _ . But that pet of the Skywalker woman’s was just all sorts of unnatural.

Palpatine knew a thing or two about “unnatural”, and also about experiments, and therefore had no right to talk whatsoever.

It might have ended there, but it didn’t. The longer he wove his plans together, the more he tangled the Senate and the Jedi and Skywalker in his web, the more the natural world seemed to rebel against him. Birds swooped at him in public. Rats refused to even touch the garbage he threw away. His shoes and robes had been befouled by more subspecies of canine than he could count as the war went on. And each time, he was in public. With a Jedi, or surrounded by influential people, so that he could not deal with the affront as a Sith ought to.

Sheev developed a theory: while not generally Force sensitive in any useful sense, animals  _ were _ capable, somehow, of sensing the presence of the Dark Side. And it clearly agitated them. That was fascinating and bore some investigation, but it was also deeply inconvenient. Sooner or later, some Jedi was probably going to wonder why so many animals hated him.

Between that, the formidable Shmi and her Devil-Reptile Ollie, and Anakin drifting slightly from his guidance, Sheev began to feel almost that the Force was mocking him. The Dark Side would come crackling to his call whenever he went to reassure himself of his power, but it was a fickle, petulant thing. Something wilder and wider and connected to all living things seemed at times to muffle it, sometimes drowning the swell of negative emotions welling up from the many levels of Coruscant with the sheer effervescence of life. Warnings seemed to delay slightly, and his foresight became full of stranger and stranger things. Sheev’s one comfort was that, according to the unintended admission of young Anakin, many of the Jedi were experiencing something very similar.

It was if the Force had been with them for so long that it had somehow tired, perhaps, of being taken for granted.

Nowhere was this untamed Force more apparent than on Naboo.

Six minutes after his arrival at flock of bogwings, known to carry up to nine times their own body weight, began swooping around him. With a little subtle misdirection in the Force, Sheev was able to trick them into carrying off an aide. The man had been particularly good at halving paperwork, too, which was particularly annoying.

Sheev was very good at deceiving others, but he didn’t usually make a habit of deceiving himself. Nevertheless, it would not do to assume that the Force was not with him, simply because some animals were agitated by the presence of the Dark Side. After all, the Dark Side of the Force was still the Force.

And then a kaadu did its level best to charge the speeder they were in.

And a flock of nunas set up a horrific racket as they passed the stall selling them.

And as they passed one of the oceans of his homeworld, the waters churned and roughened into white-capped waves. Palpatine caught a glimpse of the armored, sinewy body of an opee sea killer, a rare sight on the surface. The monstrous fish seemed to be contemplating a leap for the bridge, and Palpatine wondered if he would be forced to repel the creature.

“My goodness,” Quarsh Panaka shook his head in disbelief as the opee returned reluctantly to the depths. “There must be a storm on its way. I’ve never seen this many animals behave like this – not even when the Trade Federation invaded all those years ago, though that was close.”

“Indeed,” Sheev forced himself to use a kindly and vaguely interested tone. “I find it fascinating that animals, dumb brutes though they may be, can sometimes more clearly perceive a coming disaster than people can, for all their cleverness.”

He allowed himself a satisfied smile, knowing the man sharing the speeder with him was one such human insensible to the danger they invited into their palaces and senates. “Indeed, the Force works mysteriously.”

Behind him, the Force mysteriously inspired a swarm of flying insects to spell out a very rude word.

And still Palpatine told himself it was nothing.

And then the Zillo Beast laid waste to an entire district of Coruscant in a fervent attempt to find him and reduce him to little more than a bad case of indigestion. Palpatine began to consider then that perhaps the Force was not so impersonal as he preferred to believe, or else someone very strong was targeting him.

Of course, by the time he reached that conclusion, it was already far too late.


	12. The One With The Space Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a prequel to two shorts you'll find in another story in this series (when I get the chance to upload it) in which Anakin/Vader has the ability to shapeshift because only half his DNA is human.

###  In Which Being Half-Force Gives Anakin Weird Traits

The first time it happened, Anakin was ten and having trouble adjusting to the rooms they were staying in. Obi-wan had been meditating and suddenly he was knocked over by a swinging tail. 

Wait. 

_A tail?_

“Anakin!” he sputtered, “Where are you? What is this?!”

He had a sudden, terrible mental image of his padawan sneaking animals into the Temple the way Qui-gon used to. But no, that couldn’t be the answer. Anakin preferred machines and gears and tools. He liked to look at animals, but would rather leave them where they were. Which was something Obi-wan appreciated immensely.

“I’m right here!” said the dragon – for dragon it was, not unlike some hybrid of a Greater and Canyon Krayt from Tatooine, but winged. And speaking with the voice of his ten year old padawan.

“What  _ happened?!” _ Obi-wan managed when his words came back at last.

“I don’t know!” Anakin sounded as frightened as  _ he _ felt. “I was trying to meditate like you, and I broke the chair! And the floor, a little bit. Sorry.”

This could not possibly be real. No, Vos must’ve slipped something strange into his tea as a prank and this was a vivid dream during meditation. Except that it didn’t feel like a dream or a vision at all.

“Anakin,” the poor young Knight sputtered, “You’re a dragon!”

“I’m sorry,” answered the dragon-boy, “I don’t  _ mean _ to be!”

The question then, of course, became one of what to do, and how to do it. Calling Master Yoda or the healers seemed wise, but there did seem to be a bit of a problem regarding Anakin’s new look and an apartment door that was no longer an adequate width. Obi-wan did try to keep his mind on the present, to keep from making mountains of nuna nests. But it was all too easy to spin off into what-ifs if he didn’t watch for them.

What if Anakin was suffering some kind of illness? What if it was catching? Obi-wan didn’t think he’d look _half_ as becoming as a dragon as young Anakin did.

What if it was permanent? How was he supposed to train a dragon padawan? Nevermind a dragon Chosen One. How did a dragon construct a lightsaber?

Actually, could a dragon even use a lightsaber?

Obi-wan breathed deeply and tried to shift into a kind of meditation to soothe his racing pulse and tight chest. They were alright. The Force would settle things. Everything was going to be fine-

“Master Kenobi, I’m gonna- gonna-!”

Anakin wrinkled his newly elongated snout and made a valiant effort to suppress the instinct while Obi-wan dove for cover. The dragon-boy let out an explosive sneeze. A plume of hot air shot over Obi-wan’s head like it had escaped a furnace. Then with a pop, the dragon vanished. In its wake was Anakin, sitting on half-melted carpet with soot in his hair and looking very confused.

It would not be the last time it happened.


	13. Clone Wolf and Cub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The funny thing is, I wrote this about a year before _The Mandalorian_ came out. But since the show seems to draw on the same inspiration as I did, there are some noticeable similarities.

###  Clone Wolf and Cub

He crouched behind a stack of empty cargo crates, disregarding the squalor around him as he watched and waited. The troopers would pass their hiding spot soon, and they only had a small window of time to get into the cargo cruiser about to finish loading.

“Alright.” Sev kept his voice low and shifted ever so slightly. “We have fifteen seconds until they pass us. What we have to do is keep low and move fast. Not gonna be a lot of time for questions, so you’ll have to stay quiet, got it?”

He frowned and risked a glance over his shoulder. “Are you even listening to me?”

The Gungan toddler burbled something unintelligible and patted Sev’s cheek with a cool, rubbery hand.

“Yes, alright, you’re very cute. Okay, let’s move.”

With a short sigh, the renegade reached over and slipped the little girl back into the improvised sling he’d made out of a discarded Jedi’s robe –  _ tattered and burnt and filled with blaster holes and  _ – when he’d found her.

CT 477277 had seen the reports. He knew what the orders coming over his comm were saying. It just…didn’t make any sense.

One moment he was chasing down a spy with a stolen data chip in the lower levels of Coruscant, then falling from a moving speeder and getting knocked out for who-knows-how-long. The next thing he knew, the Jedi temple was burning and there was talk of an assassination attempt against the Supreme Chancellor. The brothers Sev had encountered since then seemed…odd. Like they were moving on autopilot, or on some kind of “factory setting”. It had unnerved him enough that he’d been tempted to avoid them entirely.

They’d joined a group searching the area around the Temple for escaped Jedi, and the wrongness building in Sev’s chest had moved to claw at the back of his throat, climbing up his brain stem to fill his mind with a steadily rising scream. What was going on? Why were his brothers shooting down the Generals? The  _ children? _ They weren’t part of this, surely?

They hadn’t even noticed when he fell behind. Sev had stayed in the hangar, staring in horror at the dead Jedi and younglings, trying to make sense of it all. This wasn’t protecting the Republic. It couldn’t be! He couldn’t- he  _ wouldn’t _ be a part of this.

_ Good soldiers follow orders _ , a poisonous voice, as familiar as the Kaminoans’ hissed in his mind.

“No.” Sev’s voice had been choked, and raw, and it cracked as he tore off his helmet and tossed it to one side. “I am a  _ person _ . I have a  _ choice _ . I can’t do this.”

That’s when he’d realized someone was still moving. Out from under the edge of the fallen Jedi’s robe, a tiny figure in the clothing of an initiate crawled. She couldn’t have been older than two, frightened and confused. Sev dropped to one knee and stared at her. There was no way she’d survive on her own, Jedi baby or not.

He’d initially meant to find someone in the lower levels to take her in, someone who would take care of the toddler. He couldn’t risk being seen with her. He had to escape! And yet here they were, three days later, trying to get offworld together.

Sev pulled the hood of his jacket up, and covered the toddler’s head with the edge of the robe. “Alright, Lil’ Bit,” he murmured, “Now or never….may the Force be with us, I guess.”

Whether it was the Force, or just very good timing, Sev managed to avoid the patrol and roll under an antigrav sled before the droids loading it noticed. After several harrowing seconds, they were in the cargo hold, and the engines were warming up. Sev didn’t want to count his nunas before they hatched, but the worst seemed to be almost behind him.

“Go home?” the toddler asked quietly, peeking out of the sling.

Sev shook his head. “Nah. We ain’t going home, Lil’ Bit. You and me, I don’t think we have a home anymore.”

He settled into the compartment he’d found for them to hide in, and leaned back against the wall. Absentmindedly, he brushed a hand over the satchel hanging from his other shoulder. Inside were three days’ rations, a blast pistol, a knife, and the lightsaber he had taken from the fallen Knight.

“You ‘kay?” the newly christened Lil’ Bit asked, frowning.

“Yeah, sure I’m okay,” Sev huffed, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You scary dark?”

The clone squinted and tried to puzzle out the babytalk. “Wh-? No, I’m not scared of the dark. Look, we’re gonna be fine, kid. I’ll figure something out. Just…I dunno, get some sleep or something.”

He had no plan. Well, outside of “Run fast, fly far, and never look back”, anyway. He didn’t know what he was going to do about Lil’ Bit, or how he was going to feed her. But anything was better than staying on Coruscant. Something had gone badly wrong in the war, and Sev didn’t plan on sticking around to find out what.


	14. Watership Clone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This entire prompt is a reference to Watership Down. The characters' names are all references to the characters, and the scenario is related to the scene with Cowslip's Warren in the book

###  Watership Clone

The rain came down hard that afternoon, as it had done for three consecutive days prior. And so for three days, the reconnaissance team had been a little out of sorts. It was, after all, very reminiscent of the consistency of Kamino’s weather. And none of those brothers held any particular fondness or “childhood” nostalgia for Kamino in their hearts.

“Fiver, did you spot anything?”

Fiver had the distinction of being just a little smaller than most of his brothers, and just a little quieter, regardless of armor. In the uniform grey of the atmosphere around them, the other four soldiers almost missed him at first, until he turned up suddenly at their leader’s elbow.

“All quiet, Ferns. There’s a village ahead, though. Doesn’t look like it’s experienced anything more exciting than a runaway nuna. It’s…it’s quiet.” The tone of his voice suggested a thoughtful little frown under his helmet. “Very, very quiet.”

Ferns nodded once. That was a good sign. If Separatist forces had been seen in the area, it was very unlikely that the nearby residents would be as peaceful.

“Right. We’ll stop in with local law enforcement and make a call back to HQ. If everything looks clear, we’re to keep moving towards the downs.”

Ideally, they’d get all the way to the ocean with no sign of Separatists. Then they could move the rest of the troops through with the supplies to meet up with their Jedi general.

As they neared the village, a thin, smiling man came out to greet them. He squinted out from beneath a well-worn umbrella and beckoned the clones closer.

“Hallo! Hallo there! Nasty weather out, isn’t it?” He picked his way around the puddles in the worn stone road until he was just a few feet from Ferns and Fiver.

“You lot wouldn’t be planning to go on straight for the downs, would you? Not in this downpour, I hope. And so close to nightfall!”

“Actually, sir,” Ferns began, “We were hoping to touch base with law enforcement, to make sure there haven’t been any Separatist spies in the area.”

The man made a tsking sound and chuckled. “Oh, we never have droid troubles in Twirrlberry Warren. You needn’t bother about that. Come! We’ve got to get you lads out of this wretched rain.”

He turned back towards the lights of the village and motioned them after him. “A hot meal and a warm bed will do you all the good in the world, I daresay! You can speak to the sheriff in the morning.”

The five members of the reconnaissance team huddled together for a moment to discuss their options.

“He’s got a point about the weather, Ferns,” murmured Argo, the resident medic, “Visibility is only going to get worse from here.”

“We can make camp in the rain,” Fiver argued, “We’ve put up with worse.”

“Fiver,” said Argo, very patiently, “Even you can’t scout in the dark during a storm. Not with real results, anyway.”

Drift crossed his arms and snorted. “We were going to talk to their sheriff anyway. I, for one, am ready to get out of the kriffin’ rain.”

Fiver fidgeted and leaned closer to Ferns. “I don’t think we should go,” he said softly, “This doesn’t feel right.”

“It doesn’t  _ feel _ right?” Tally slung his rifle over his shoulder and laughed. “Fiver’s a Jedi now, guys!”

The man with the umbrella turned back to face them, still smiling. “Everything alright, gentlemen?” he called, “You’ll not want to hang about outdoors, it’s liable to get worse when the sun goes down.”

“Ferns, you’re in charge,” Argo said. “Do we stay the night? The sheriff’s probably gone home for the night by now.”

Ferns had a bit of a dilemma on his hands. While it was perfectly sensible to want to stop for the night so they could question the sheriff in the morning, Fiver seemed very against the idea. And Fiver’s instincts were rarely wrong. But they weren’t Jedi, they were clone troopers. Could he make a decision based on Fiver’s instincts?

“Fiver, I know you don’t like it,” he said at last, “but I need you to trust me for now. We’ll keep our guard up. It’s not like we’re on leave or anything.”

There was a ring of finality in his tone, and Fiver reluctantly followed the others into Twirrlberry Warren.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” he said to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character refs:
> 
> Ferns is Hazel  
> Fiver is, well, Fiver  
> Argo is Silver  
> Tally is Bigwig


	15. Clones Feel the Force, Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone remember Glitch, the Force-sensitive clone from the earliest Clone Wars comics? It was the series that went with the 2003 cartoon.   
> I figured if the Force is created by all life and flows through all living beings, statistically it makes sense to me that some of the clones can feel it. They just might not know that's what it is.

###  Clones Feel the Force, Too

CT-999231 was jolted out of a rare good dream by a frantic tapping on his leg. Muttering a few choice words, the clone rolled over and found himself looking into the panicked eyes of two cadets.

“Wha-? Which one're you, Snatch? Kid, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“Show him, Jak,” the cadet with the nickname "Snatch" fretted.

CT-999231 – Tooth, to his brothers – forced himself to sit up. The cadets looked scared, and that made it his job to fix whatever the situation was.

Jak, a gangly little cadet around three chronological years old, trembled as he stepped up.

“Don’t be afraid, vod'ika,” Tooth yawned, show me.“

Jak gulped, opened his hands, and held them up. On his palms lay a perfectly normal multitool. But as Tooth and Snatch watched, the tool rose into the air and turned lazy circles over their heads.

”…what.“ Tooth was without words.

Snatch threw his arm around the other cadet’s shoulders. "Please help us,” he begged. “We can’t let the Longnecks find out he can feel the Force. They’ll say he’s defective! Who knows what they’ll do!”

On further reflection, Tooth decided, this was a little above his paygrade.

They needed an adult.

Shaak Ti sensed trouble long before someone knocked on the door. She rose from her meditation and opened the door to find one of the just-graduated “shinies” and two of the very young ones. The smaller boys were in tears, and the older boy was pale.

“Come inside, younglings, and tell me what troubles you,” Ti said gently, but firmly.

The little cadet with half his head shaved stared up at her, then abruptly flung his arms around her waist and began to cry soundlessly into her robes.

“Don’t let them reject Jak,” the cadet with the scar over his eyebrow begged, “Don’t let the Longnecks take him, General!”

Tooth hastily shut the door behind them, as if he were afraid that there might very well be a Kaminoan listening in the hallway.

“Something’s up with Jak, General,” he said in a low voice. “Usually clones with variations are…the Kaminoans find them before the Jedi hear about it. If they don't go to the Bad Batch, they just...disappear. Jak must’ve slipped past the radar.”

Shaak Ti felt the Force thrashing against the walls, barely rattling loose objects with the untamed terror of a child. She carefully detached Jak from her robes, then knelt in front of him.

“I see,” she murmured. “The Force does not discriminate between life forms, it flows through each of us. That it flows more strongly through you than through some of your brothers is no sin, little one. No more than Snatch having a scar while Tooth does not.” She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “There are so many of your brothers that I am more surprised that you are the first cadet to ask me about this.”

Snatch looked down at his shoes with a bitter scoff. “Dr. Se probably did experiments on them,” he muttered.

Ti raised a brow and met his eyes. “She’d better not have,” the Jedi said coolly.

“Can you, I don’t know, take him to Coruscant or something?” Tooth asked, “Teach one of our brothers to be a Jedi?”

Ti looked down at Jak, who was still sniffling. “You are three standard years old. If you wished to become a Jedi, we could settle you into a youngling clan easily enough.”

“We age faster than normal humans, though, General,” Snatch pointed out.

“So do many other species,” the Jedi replied, “And some age much slower. I believe the age suggestions has more to do with the child’s development than with chronology. You can’t exactly go about teaching a toddler to swing a training saber, after all. They aren’t mature enough for that yet.”

Jak bit his lip. “But what if I don’t-” he glanced over at Snatch and Tooth as if worried about their reactions. “What if I don’t wanna fight?”

A sadness filled Shaak Ti. None of these boys should have been forced to fight. A Jedi at least had the luxury of choosing their path at a young age. The clones had been denied that and many other freedoms.

“You do not have to decide yet, little one,” Shaak Ti assured Jak. “What you must learn first is how to use the Force without it overwhelming you. And then, if you do not wish to be a trooper, or even a Knight, there are other kinds of Jedi. Healers, explorers, Jedi who talk to plants-”

“They talk to plants?” Jak wrinkled his nose and giggled. “Do the plants talk back?”

“Well, I’m told they do, but only the Jedi Agricorps really knows what they say. They talk to animals, too. Did you know that?”

Jak wiped his eyes. “I wanna talk to animals. I wanna talk to the aiwha.”

“No no, be a Jedi doctor, Jak!” Snatch insisted, “Then when I get done with my field medic training next year, we can go be space doctors!”

Shaak Ti nodded sagely. “Space could always use more doctors,” she agreed.

Pushing herself back upright, Ti turned to Tooth. “I’ll arrange for Jak and Snatch’s squad to take specialized lessons so that I can help him control his emotions until he decides whether or not he wants to be trained. Don’t worry about Nala Se. She won’t hear anything from me.”

Tooth’s shoulders sagged in visible relief. “Thank you, General.”

“Now:” Shaak Ti clapped her hands. “I see three cadets who are up far later than they should be!”

“General! I’m not a cadet anymore!” Tooth protested despite himself.

“Nonsense, you’re all my cadets,” Ti scoffed with a twinkle in her eye. “Now off with you! Back to bed!”

As soon as the cadets had been hustled back to the dormitories by their older brother, Shaak Ti let her smile fall. She reached for her commlink, preparing to send a message to the Council.

“Well this is going to be an adventure,” she sighed.

Well. If Nala Se so much as suggested an injection for the little cadet, she was going to have cause for regret. In the most compassionate way, of course.


	16. Seagulls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this is (for now) the finale of the collection! Obviously, as I add to my Star Wars Wednesdays on tumblr, I may expand this one, too. But this makes for a fun finale, I think.

###  Seagulls

It had been generally agreed upon by all that after the excruciating process of extricating the Jedi Order from the political control of the Senate, a break was in order. Several Knights, Padawans, Younglings, and even Council members found themselves on Scarif soon, enjoying a rare moment of peace.

The last three years had been hard to adjust to for the oldest Jedi. Many grumbled about the “new direction” of the Order, even though it was more accurate to say that the Jedi were returning to their roots. Families. Community. An openness that they had all but forgotten in their avoidance of anything they even slightly associated with a temptation towards the Dark Side.

One Jedi who was  _ not _ having any difficulty adjusting was Anakin Skywalker. He sat on the doorstep of the rough cabin he was staying in, and tinkered with a youngling-sized lightsaber. The twins were almost old enough to begin basic saber defense with Yoda, and he wanted to make sure the devices were as safe as possible.

His concentration was abruptly interrupted by a panicked screech. Anakin sensed no danger, but something had definitely frightened the three tiny children pelting up the sandy path towards him.

“Wh- what the-? Leia, Luke, Ezra, what’s wrong?” Anakin asked, bending over the trio of younglings.

“Birds!” Ezra Bridger cried, pointing behind them.

“Really mad birds!” Leia added, still clutching her sunhat to her head.

“They’re gonna eat Master Yoda!” Luke shrieked, tugging Anakin’s trouser leg.

Anakin blinked slowly as the words settled in his brain.

“Wait, guys,  _ where’s _ Master Yoda?”

As one, the children pointed down the hill, to where the crash of the waves only partially drowned out the squawk of seabirds and unintelligible shouting.

“He’s on the beach?” Anakin spluttered.

“Who’s on the beach?” Ahsoka came to the door of the cabin, looking curious. “Padme made tea, by the way.”

“Yoda’s on the beach, apparently being attacked by birds!” Anakin gestured towards the dunes.

Ahsoka bit back a cackle. “Didn’t the guide tell him not to go walking on that particular beach?”

Anakin nodded. “ _ Everyone _ told him not to go on that beach! Those gulls will swoop at anyone!”

“I tried chasin’ them away with my beanie bag,” Luke piped up, “But I hit Master Yoda instead.”

This time Ahsoka didn’t bother muffling her laughter.


End file.
